No Metronome Marking
by Teal the Banned
Summary: "Elle s'appelle Musette. Musette Solange." Woah there lady voice, I happen to know basic French. Who do you think you are, renaming me? Being reborn is quite weird, especially because you don't know exactly what's waiting for you this time.
1. Being a baby is hard

**Well then, I finally decided to do this shit! Any guesses to who it is? It's a canon character, in case you're wondering. The title should sort of give it away though, and otherwise the wiki probably will... But I'll tell you next chepter. For now, enjoy~**

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Holy shit this was boring. I mean, I guess the ceiling was interesting enough; after all there were a bunch of drawings to look at and it was nice to train my eyes, but holy shit this was boring.

As if dying wasn't good enough, I had to be reborn. In France of all places. With my complete consciousness intact. Okay, time for a quick trip down memory lane.

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Walking outside. _Check._

Huge-ass truck. _Check._

Distracting phone conversation. _Check._

Basically, the recipe for death was ready, and I stupidly caused it to happen. Not paying attention, I turned to cross the road. And then I was met with pain, basically. And then I blacked out, not even having the time to register the fact that I was dying.

And then I woke up. And then I yelled. Loudly. I didn't even take the time to open my eyes.

_I just died! Oh my god, I really just got hit by a truck! What the hell!? That hurt like a bitch, oh my god!_

Even though I wanted to yell this, nothing but an ear-piercing screech left my mouth.

A high-pitched ear-piercing screech, might I add. When I heard that, I thought it was about time I opened my eyes, and-

_Holy shit, everything is a bright and blurry mess! What is this crap! I did not agree to this?_

And then I heard talking. I didn't understand a word of what was being said, but using my amazing skills, I deducted that the language spoken was French. The detective badge goes to me.

_Bonjour motherfuckers, kindly tell me what the fuck is going on._

"_Elle s'appelle Musette. Musette Solange._" _Woah there lady voice, I happen to know basic French. Who do you think you are, renaming me?_

Realization in 3…

2…

1…

_Now wait just a motherfucking second! Am I being reborn!? What in the name of fuck!?_

While I did not like this, something in the back of my mind told me that it would be fine. That was, as soon as I could actually do something. Which would be in a few years. In the meantime, I had to:

- Learn French

- Get control over this body

- Figure out who the fuck I am now and if I was important to history

I figured the last one was kind of important. Then again, I'd probably just do it for my own amusement anyway.

_Hah, imagine if I was in some sort of tv show. Wouldn't that be funny. My life would magically turn into bad fanfict- Christ woman I was just comfortable!_

This baby thing seriously takes a lot of getting used to.

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And thus here I was, under an obnoxiously pink blanket, looking at the painted ceiling and trying to figure out what it was.

_It's probably a fucking fish or something stupid like that. No wait, there's too much green for that. And I think I see pink. Fuck you, pink, burn in hell. I also see some blue, and a bunch of brown, and more pink blotches, and red blotches. Damn it eyes, work._

This is basically how I spent my first months. When around people, I'd try to decipher what the hell they were saying, and when I was alone, I was training my body. I had pretty quickly gained control over my hands and feet, and my arms and legs too, though I couldn't do much more than move them, really. They were too weak to do much else. And then I sat up, and I had a lot more training to do.

Being a baby was really boring. How babies got through this without becoming suicidal was a mystery to me. Then again, they didn't have the mind of an adult person so they probably didn't have that many problems.

Bored and hungry, I took a deep breath and let out a loud yell, trying to grab my new mother's attention. Instantly, she hurries into the room and picks me up - wearing a horrible perfume might I add. _Is this woman trying to gas me or something!? I want food, not gas. Gas is bad for my health! Ugh, she never listens to my thoughts._

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_That's why babies cry so much. All of a sudden having a body is a lot to deal with._

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**Thanks for reading~**

**Please do review. For cupcakes.**

**xx Deirdre Hikari**


	2. Acting like Rome, apparently

**GUYS I'M SORRY FOR BEING A SLOW-ASS SHIT! In my defense, though, school started again. Also my brain noped at everything... Yeah just go read I'll go sit in my corner and sigh 'cause I'm horrible.**

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I'm now at the amazing age of one. I have spent a year learning French, finding out who the hell I am, and…

I am not pleased.

I am really not pleased.

Why, you may ask? I am a fictional character. I should not exist, yet here I am, existing.

The first clue was my appearance. The obvious bright red hair should have been a giveaway already, as well as the bright violet eyes.

Then, I found out my family was in the Mafia. _Who brings their 1-year-old to a mafia meeting anyway!?_

Then, I heard some pretty familiar names. The most obvious one being Vongola. Vongola. VONGOLA. (Yes, it actually repeated it like this in my head. It was like a moment in a bad tv show.)

And then the pieces clicked, and I was kindly reminded of a certain red-haired female individual in a certain tv show. (Ah, the irony.)

And then there's the beautiful fact that, apart from maybe my temper, I am in no way like her. I'm going to fuck up shit, bigtime. And since that's already a fact, I might as well start early.

How hard could it be to find a mafioso that isn't fucking creepy in a huge mansion filled with mafiosos? Quite hard, I found out.

_That one's creepy, that one's creepy, that one's creepy, ew that one's gross._

I have been walking around for over an hour. You'd think I'd have found someone by now. But no, they're all fucking weird.

Not paying attention to where I'm walking, I bump into someone and fall, tears welling up in my eyes as a reaction. _Don't cry. Do not under any circumstance cry._

I looked up to see who I bumped into as I dried my eyes and attempted to keep them that way. That tear problem was easily fixed when I saw a mafioso that wasn't creepy as hell.

"I'm sorry, I should have watched where I was walking," he smiled, reaching his hand down and pulling me up.

I finally managed to get a good look at him and decided he shouldn't be in the Mafia. He's way too cute to be in the Mafia. He had big, bright green eyes that looked too innocent for murder and death. They quite reminded me of the forest, and it felt quite peaceful looking at them. He also had short, dark blond hair that was quite honestly a huge mess, and it didn't look bad either.

These were the moments that I hated the fact that I was no older than one. God, I would love to kiss this guy.

"Are you okay, princess?" I was pulled out of my (quite inappropriate for a 1-year-old) thoughts as he talked to me again. I must have been staring and probably pouting at him.

"My name isn't princess, stupid." I was quite sure I saw his eyes widen slightly before he started laughing. _Oh right, I'm one, I'm not supposed to be able to talk like this._

"But you are the boss' daughter, right? I don't think it's strange for me to call you princess," he explained, smiling. "My name is Salvatore, but most people call me Sal. Musette, right?"

"Yes, that's my name. I won't ask where you got that information. You're Italian, right?" I smiled back at him, though it wasn't exactly a sincere smile. It was more of an 'I am going to use you and you're not allowed to complain'-smile. Quite evil, really.

"Yes, I am. I always heard that the boss' daughter was quite the prodigy, But I can't say that I expected this."

"I'm not a prodigy, I'm a ninja. Also, I'm gonna call you old man Sal and I want you to help me with a few things." I smiled, tilting my head to the side though I'm pretty sure I made is quite obvious that he can't exactly refuse. I was an evil baby.

Of course, he started laughing. Curse my baby-ness. "Alright then princess, though I have to ask if your dad knows about this."

"Holy mother of Bermuda did you just agree?" Somewhere in the world, a woman just sneezed.

"Well, yes. That still doesn't answer my question, though." I hugged him. Well, his leg, since I couldn't exactly reach much higher than that.

"I'm sorry for being so mean, I didn't mean it like that, I really love you, please marry me Sally, you're my hero." This, in turn, caused him to laugh more. I wasn't that funny a 1-year-old, was I?

"Now, I don't think that's something your father would agree to princess." In return to this, I pouted and let go of him, but not before he affectionately patted my head.

"Okay so, to answer your questions.. No, Papa doesn't know. I need you to train me and when I'm trained you need to become my assistant." I could see that he was holding in his laugh, but then he noticed my serious face. I wasn't kidding when I said that, after all.

"So what's in it for me?" His innocent demeanor fell as he finally decided to be serious. His face showed a manipulative smile. Of course, to him I was still only one and he was a mafioso. It really showed now. Wow, he was actually quite an asshole.

"I won't get you fired," I smiled back at him. The same manipulative smile that he had on his face - at least, I liked to think so. Honestly, it was just a smile.

"Now, how would you plan to do that, princess?" Though he sounded normal, I saw the twitch. His smile was faltering.

"Oh come now, who would Papa trust? You, one of his mafiosos? Or me, his prodigy of a daughter, heir to the family?" I knew he couldn't reply to that, because it was true.

A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "20 percent." Though that was all he said, I knew exactly what he meant. Too bad for him, I was a greedy bitch and not planning to give him more than 10 percent of my future income.

"5 percent," I followed up.

"15 percent."

"1 percent."

"You're supposed to meet me in the middle, not go even lower!" Mentally, I laughed. Physically... I also laughed. Honestly, I was planning on staying serious. Sort of.

"Fine, fine.. 10 percent, take it or leave it." He nodded, we shakes hands, yadda yadda I had a trainer. Amazing what bumping into someone could get you.

I didn't like him, though. He's an asshole.

Oh well.

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Rome did not create a great empire by having meetings, they did it by killing all those who opposed them.

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**Okay, there you go. Longer than the prologue~ Also, it got a lot easier to write halfway through.. I also have many plans for this and since we still have, like, 14 years of pre-story and meeting people to do, we will have fun c:**

**Also holy shit I changed my penname. My penname is beautiful now.**

**Please do review. For my inspiration (and cookies for you guys).**

**xx Teal the Banned**


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